


Lick and a Promise

by tsukinofaerii



Series: Wildflowers and Werewolves [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Feral behaviour, Found Families, feral!Allison Argent, recovering feral character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-17
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-17 19:49:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2321264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsukinofaerii/pseuds/tsukinofaerii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A piece of Allison's former life returns to Beacon Hills. Predictably, nothing goes well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lick and a Promise

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while, but I'm still continuing this, but slowly. D: I have way too many projects on the burner. ♥ Thanks for the patience.

Allison swayed gently on the tire swing Derek had installed the very first thing after Laura had purchased their new land. It cut into the backs of her thighs, and the chain left pinches in her palms, but she liked it. It was their mark on a new place, something that was _theirs_. Overhead the trees were in full summer bloom, deep green leaves rustling with the warm breeze. The same breeze tickled the hairs on the back of her neck and cooled her sweat, made her shirt flutter around her stomach. 

Inside the house, Derek and Laura were doing one of their regular checks, making sure that the contractors were following orders. _That_ had been something else they'd fought over, and one of the fights that she'd lost. The idea of having other people _make_ their home made Allison's skin crawl, but Derek had explained to her all the things that would have to be done to make the house safe. Even Allison had to admit that they needed outside people. 

And if she happened to watch them work a lot, well. It was going to be her home too. She could watch, as long as she stayed out of the way and didn't throw anything. Or bite anyone. Or growl. Laura was very big on the _watching_ part. 

The house was only half done, and the grounds were a mess of tire tracks and mud, big piles of gravel and tarps and equipment. Trees had been cut back from the woods at the edge of the property, and were still lying around in piles waiting to be hauled away. There weren't windows yet, or doors, and the roof was all a big blue thing. In spite of all of that she thought she might approve of how it was coming, though. Laura had let her look over every step of the planning and they'd fought _forever_ over some things, like doors and windows and hiding places, but it was different seeing it in person instead of on paper.

Behind her, a car door shut with a deceptively quiet sound. Allison leaned back so far that her hair brushed the grass. A big black car had parked at the far end the driveway, which was far enough from the road that there wasn't anywhere else to go but the new house. A man stood beside it in jeans and a button up, arms crossed while he flipped through something on his phone. He had the sort of ragged-edged, bearded-but-clean look that Allison was used to associating with the construction people.

But the next time she looked, he'd put away the phone and was watching the house more closely, hands in his pockets.

And on the next, he was walking up the path to the door-less front entry. 

Stopping the swing wasn't as easy or as fun as starting it, so Allison didn't. Instead she pulled her legs in and jumped off at the high point of the upward arc. It wasn't as clean as she liked—the tire wasn't a solid thing to push off of, and the ground wasn't level. She stumbled on landing, muddy dirt slipping under her bare feet, but not so much that she couldn't put on a burst of speed and cut off the man only halfway through the front yard.

"What do you want?" she demanded, slipping around so she could face him. It took walking backwards, which she didn't like, but the only people at her back were Derek and Laura, and they could hear if something bad happened. "Who are you?" 

The man's pace slowed, but it didn't stop. "I'm a neighbor," he answered, which was a lie. They didn't have neighbors—Laura had bought them all and made them go away. "My wife and I just moved back into town. I saw the construction from the road and was curious." 

"This is private property," Allison growled, planting herself in front of him and putting her hands on her hips. Something about the way he stood bothered her, tickled something in her memory. It made her heart pick up and her legs want to move, made her want to run until he was far behind her. Instead she bared her teeth, ignoring the little Derek-voice in her head that said humans didn't do that. _He_ did it all the time. "Go away." 

The man's eyebrows went up, but he stopped getting closer to the house. He eyed her over the edge of his glasses, bright blue eyes a sharp contrast to tanned skin. His beard was dark, but she could see smudges where he'd dyed it that way. If she sniffed really hard, she could smell something sharp and ugly that ached deep up in her nose, but the exact scent eluded her. 

She wanted to hide, but Laura and Derek were in the house. They were alone, without any of the hiding places finished yet. _Unsafe_. So she stayed in place and glared, silently daring the man to try and get past her. 

Finally, he took a step back, hands coming up with his palms out. "I was just being neighborly." 

"We don't want neighbors. Go away," Allison repeated, following his step with one of her own. "Go back to your own home. This one is ours. Go!"

"I'm going, I'm going." The man kept backing away with his hands up. Allison followed him a few feet, then took a spot in the center of the yard and watched to make sure he was actually leaving. She didn't look away until the black car was out of sight and she couldn't even hear its engine anymore. 

When she turned around, Laura and Derek were watching from the doorway. Laura had her hand on Derek's shoulder, claws dug in enough that Allison could see the rips in his white t-shirt, even though there was no blood. He pulled at Laura's grip until she finally let go, then leaped over the porch steps and jogged the last few feet to Allison. Laura followed more slowly, strolling where her brother had run. 

"Are you okay?" Derek asked, an edge of frantic worry making his voice sharp. His eyes raked over her, flashing bright blue, like he could use werewolf vision to see if she was hiding something. "What did he say? We couldn't hear everything." 

Allison scowled. There were worry lines in Derek's forehead, and Laura was only strolling, but her eyes had a little ring of red. But if they'd been that worried for her, they could have just come out of the house. "He said he was being neighborly," she answered slowly, swiveling her head to look between them. "What's wrong? Is he a bad person?" 

They looked at each other in that way that meant she was right but they didn't want to admit it to her. "It's a little more complicated than that," Laura said slowly. One of her arms hooked through Allison's to tug her back to Derek's Toyota. "Let's just say he's not safe to be around. We should go." 

Immediately she dug in her heels. "If he's not safe, then someone should watch the den," she said, craning her neck to look back at Derek. Usually he was on her side when it came to things like that. "What if he comes back and sets it on fire?"

But this time, Derek shook his head and hooked her other arm. His hand tangled in hers, long fingers locking together. His thumb rubbed over the back of her hand, right over one of her scars. "He won't come back in the daytime. What's important is staying safe. Right?"

Her jaw tightened. She glared down at his hand. It was obvious what they were doing, but she couldn't argue. They kept pulling, and she kept resisting, though it was down to a token grumble and a tug. "Stop that," she said, shaking their hands. At the same time, her fingers tightened around his, not giving him a chance actually let go. "That's not fair." 

"Alphas don't have to be fair," Laura sing-songed, grinning at her. The sliding door on Derek's car opened up with the click of a button on the keys. "That's why we're alphas and _you're_ the cub."

Allison snorted and " _That's_ not fair either," she pointed out, tugging away to climb in by herself. She wasn't _that_ much of the baby of the pack. The car still smelled sharp with _new_ , which made her wrinkle her nose as she wiggled into her seat next to Mr. Bear, who was safely buckled in on the other side. She was starting to realize that it was just a little silly to take him everywhere, but he was a good reminder of how far she'd come. And of how much she had to lose. 

"You promise you won't let him hurt our den?" she asked, leaning forward to talk over the back of the passenger seat while Laura was still sitting down. Derek was still circling, counting the tires or whatever it was he did before driving. " _Promise_?"

Laura twisted so Allison could see her cross her heart. "I promise," she said. "No one's going to take our new home before we even have it finished. Alpha's honor."

* * *

Alpha's honor was not what Allison had expected. 

"I'm going with you," she insisted, leaning forward onto the very edge of the sofa. Her heart was beating hard up in her throat, and there was a feeling in the back of her eyes that felt a lot like crying. She hated everything. "You need me."

"We need you safe," Derek said, sitting beside her. He kept his head down, focusing tying the laces on his boots so he didn't have to look at her. They were the beat up boots that he liked wearing when there would be mud or blood around, and all of his clothes were gray and black. "We're just going to make sure no one is making trouble while it's empty. You don't see as well at night as we do." 

"If we find someone, we'll call the police," Laura added, shrugging to settle her leather jacket around her shoulders. She didn't seem to notice that it was _summer time_. Her dark hair was pulled back into a pony tail, and then braided and doubled up in a net. The back of her neck was already shiny with sweat, but she was wearing the jacket anyway. "You won't want to be there if that happens anyway, right?"

Allison crossed her arms under her breasts and scowled as hard as she could. There were times when she thought she could make them understand, that she was getting better, and they were getting better, and _everything_ was better. Then they made her feel like she was fresh from the wild all over again and they were as stupid as they'd ever been. "But what if you need help?" Her voice hit a pitch that was definitely whining. She didn't really care. "What if that man is there again?" 

"That's what the police are for." Stomping his feet, Derek kissed her cheek and grabbed his own jacket from the back of the couch. "I promise we'll be safe." 

The heartbeat up in Allison's throat gave a little twist. She leaned away, staring down at her knees. "You can't promise that." 

Boots shuffled on carpet, and then Derek knelt down in front of her. Gently, he uncrossed her arms until he could cup her hands over her knees, where she could see them even if she wouldn't look at his face. "You're right, I shouldn't have promised that. But I promise we'll be careful. All right? You can stay here and finish your book so we can go buy the next one for you." 

She took a short breath that she wouldn't ever admit was a sniffle. "If you get hurt, I'm going to yell at you for a whole week. Both of you. And then I'll tell Doctor Deaton and he'll yell at you too."

Laura chuckled, and Derek made that little huff of air that meant he'd almost laughed too. "No one is allowed to hurt me but you, right?" he asked, and she could hear the smile in his voice.

Allison squeezed his hands hard. "Right."

Derek kissed her cheek again, far away from her lips because he was strange about kissing in front of Laura. "Stay here. Read. We'll call you on your phone so you know we're okay." He untangled their hands, and Allison watched through her hair as they got the keys to both cars and left. She listened hard, but the sound of car engines never started. 

After a few minutes, Allison crept to the front window to peek out. Twilight made it hard to see, but with some squinting she was able to make out that there was no sign of Derek or Laura, and both cars were empty. They must have run. The new house wasn't very far when they ran fast, and there were lots of woods to cut through. She'd jogged it with them a few times, often enough that she knew the trail. It took her longer because she couldn't run like they did, but it was only a few miles. 

Chewing her lip, Allison planted herself by the front window to stare outside and think. Squirrels ran across the lawn, hurrying to get to their trees before the owls came out. The road was far away, and not very well lit, but every now and then she saw a car drive past. The half moon hadn't risen, and it wouldn't for a long time. Even when it did, it would be too weak to be much help in lighting the way. 

It was the kind of night when anything could happen. And Derek and Laura were out there by themselves, when there was a strange man being nosy and poking around their new den and maybe trying to make trouble. 

She waited until it was completely dark. Then she took the bag Laura had given her and hooked it around her hips and thigh, making sure it was nice and secure. A little flashlight no bigger than her thumb went in her pocket, and her sling stayed in her hand. Thoughtfully. she wrote a note that said _followed you - ♥A_ , in case someone got home before she did, and attached it to the refrigerator with a magnet that looked like a teddy bear. Just because they were dumb didn't mean she wanted to scare them.

Then she set the alarm, locked the door and slipped off into woods.

* * *

It took a long time for Allison to get through the woods. Everything was pitch dark, only a little better than the inside of a proper den. She didn't want to use her flashlight much, in case someone was nearby and saw her, but without it she had to go slow. Bumps and holes and fallen branches tripped up her feet. One time she startled a coyote, and another she missed a turn and walked into brambles that clawed at her shins and made her momentarily glad she'd put on shoes for once.

By the time she finally reached the tree line the moon was starting to rise, a faint patch of silver-lined clouds over the trees to the east. Her path had deviated a little and she came out too far too the north, but she'd made sure to memorize the area as soon as Laura bought it. She slipped out of the trees just long enough to find the big oak tree that was her landmark. Then she ducked back in and followed the edge of the woods the rest of the way. 

The house was a giant, dark lump of shadow, surrounded by smaller shadows of equipment and trash bins. Derek's tire swing creaked with a breeze, and every now and then the quiet was cracked by a falling pine cone. Allison found a nook between two trees that had grown up close and settled in to watch. She didn't expect to be able to spot her pack, but if there was trouble she'd be able to hear it. Werewolves were really bad at being quiet. 

After only a few minutes, she felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She pulled it out, frowning down at Derek's face on the screen—she hadn't thought he would call so soon. Her thumb slid over the green answer key and lifted it to her ear. "Derek?" 

Wind rustled her hair, and someone dropped down right in front of her. Blue eyes gleamed in the dark. 

Allison shrieked and lashed out, cracking the heel of her hand into her attacker's jaw. He cursed and stumbled back, voice doubled by the still-open call. As soon as her heart slowed enough for her to recognize who it was, she grabbed a pine cone and threw it as hard as she could. "Bad!" she snapped, fumbling for something else to throw. " _Bad_!" 

Derek caught the second pine cone in one hand and ended his end of the call with the other. "What are you doing here?" he demanded, words thick and rough. Growly, the way it got when he changed his face. "You're supposed to be at home!" 

"I wrote a note." Since she'd been caught anyway, Allison stood up, taking the time to brush the dirt off her ass. Far away in the trees behind Derek she could see a red glow that might have been Laura's eyes. It winked out, slipping behind a tree, and Allison sighed. Laura was going to yell even more than Derek when she got there. "I was worried you would be stupid."

"I would be stupid?" Derek hooked an arm behind her shoulders, pushing her toward the house without actually grabbing her. Where his hand rested on her arm, she could feel the prickle of claws. "You're going home. We'll call a cab if we..." The wind shifted, and she felt him go tense against her side. His head twisted, eyes glowing brighter.

"What is it?" Allison asked. Her hand curled in the back of his jacket, finding a grip in the folds. "Derek?"

He didn't look at her. "Go to the house. Run." 

"What? No!" She dug in her heels, dropping down to try and slip free of his hold.

Derek growled, grabbing her shoulders and shoving her away. Over his shoulder, the red spot appeared again, much closer. Something cracked in the dark, like lightning hitting a tree. Derek fell. 

Ground cracked against Allison's knees painfully as she went down beside him, feeling over him for the wound. Blood smeared her hands—a hole in his chest that wheezed and bubbled as he breathed. Someone stood over them, the red light close and bright, right in her eyes. A man was saying something, but she couldn't hear it over the ringing in her ears. 

Derek was hurt. _Derek was hurt_ and he might die and where was Laura and and and—

Allison howled, throwing herself blindly at the man who'd hurt Derek. Her fingers went straight for the eyes, nails raking down. He shouted, stumbling, falling. They went down together, landing in the grass with her knees in his chest. Her nails sank into his throat, clawing at it. 

The gun went off again. She jerked, pain blossoming in her stomach and spreading like a stain. 

Hands grabbed her shoulders, wrenching her off, pulling her back into someone's arms. "Oh my God, oh my God," Laura muttered in Allison's ear, pressing her palms to the wound. "You little moron, we _told_ you to stay home. Derek, give me your shirt and call for help." 

"It was a normal bullet, she'll be fine," the man said somewhere over their heads. "That's what happens when you turn children. They can't control themselves that young—"

"She's human, you idiot!" Laura yelled, right in Allison's ear. Her voice was thick, choking. Allison wanted to kick the man for making Laura sound like that, but she couldn't reach, couldn't do anything but curl up into Laura's arms. He startled back anyway, and vanished before she could try again. The sound of his feet cracking through the woods was loud, but not as loud as her heart in her ears. 

"Just hold on, cub, we got you," Laura murmured. Her cheek was wet where it pressed against Allison's. A piece of cloth bundled up against her stomach, making her grunt at the sudden pressure it put on the wound. "Just stay with us, okay? Stay with us." 

Allison tried to pull away, to say she was fine, to say _anything_ that would make Laura stop crying, but the attempt made her vision sparkle. She tipped her head back, watching the moon instead, and did her best not to cry. 

The night was dark, and the moon didn't give nearly enough light yet, but some. It felt like she could count every heart beat and breath, mostly because they all hurt. Derek was talking to someone, the glow of his cell phone bright in the corner of Allison's eye, illuminating his cheek bone and the bridge of his nose in bright white light. She reached over, flopping her hand on his knee until he grabbed it and wrapped it up in his. 

It took a little bit of time to make her mouth form around the words, "You're okay?" They barely came out as a whisper, but she couldn't manage to make them louder. 

"I'm okay," he answered, squeezing. Both of their hands were slick, but his was warm and big, covering hers completely on his knee. Red and blue lights flashed on the road, a distant siren breaking the quiet. "And you will be too. Promise me you'll be okay."

"I'm not." She rolled her head to frown at him. "It hurts."

He made a funny choking noise, and his hand tightened so much that her fingers ended up twisted together. "But you will be, right?" 

The colored lights got closer, filling the yard and making everything bright and sharp. An ambulance made a sharp turn, cutting straight across the grass and directly to them. She closed her eyes, leaning back against Laura's shoulder. "It hurts." 

"Allison?" Derek shook her hand until she looked at him again. "Allison, promise me. Say it."

It was a stupid promise. But Derek wouldn't stop shaking her hand, and Laura was still crying, and Allison just wanted them to be okay. "Promise." 

A man had jumped out of the back of the ambulance and were unloading something. Laura was yelling things, and there were bright lights everywhere, hurting her eyes until she squeezed them closed. Then there were strange faces and hands tugged at her. Derek slipped out of her grip. She whined, pushing the hands away weakly, trying to stay with her pack. "No— _no no no_..."

"It's okay. It's okay, Allison," Derek said from far away. "We're right here. Let them help."

This time when she grabbed his hand, no one made her let go.

* * *

Somewhere between being carried into the ambulance and arriving at the hospital, Allison lost track of time and—worse—of Derek's hand. One moment it was there, and the next it was gone, and she couldn't find it again no matter how hard she reached. The lights were too bright, and people were too loud and _Derek was gone_. Someone else tried to hold her hand instead, a woman with dark curls who kept saying that she would be alright. Before she could tell the woman that was stupid because Derek wasn't there so it _couldn't_ be alright, everything swirled and then she lost time again.

There were flashes after that. People in scrubs walking around, looking down at her while someone else covered her face with a mask. Then another room, quieter, with a lady checking her wrist and trying to feed her pieces of ice. Allison tried to bite her, but she was so tired that she fell asleep again before she could get her teeth into skin.

By the time she woke up fully, she was alone in a small room made smaller by a curtain running around it—a hospital room. Before the fire, she'd visited them a few times. They'd always smelled the same, and they'd had the same sort of curtains, the same smell of razor-sharp clean. Her head felt like it was floating away, and there was a cottony, rancid feeling in her mouth. Tubes ran from her arms up into bags on a little wheeled tower. Topping it off was a band around her wrist that said _Allison Hale_ , with a bar code and a bunch of other things she didn't even try to understand. 

Plastic crackled in her pillow as she rolled her head carefully to look around the room. Laura was draped across a chair next to her, head tilted back, mouth open. There wasn't another chair, but Allison could see the top of Derek's head just over the edge of the bed, using Laura's knee as a pillow. She tried to giggle at them, but when she did a sharp pain cut through her stomach and it turned into a whimper. 

Laura jerked upright at the sound, flailing and kneeing Derek in the temple. He slid sideways, vanishing out of sight only to pop up again with a snarl. 

One of Laura's hands covered his face, shoving him away. "Shut up, she's awake. How are you feeling, cub?" 

Allison smiled at them carefully, blinking to keep the lights from doing odd things to her eyes. "Hurts." She pressed one of her hands to her stomach. There was something lumpy under the blanket and hospital gown, but she didn't think she wanted to look. "Is Derek okay?" 

"I'm fine." Derek pulled himself up to the side of the bed. "I'm the one who can heal, remember? Unlike you." Both of his hands wrapped around hers, rubbing it like it was cold. He was wearing his jacket still, but he didn't have a shirt on under it, and there were dark brown smudges of blood that he hadn't washed off yet. 

That made her frown. "He hurt you."

"And then he hurt _you_." Laura did something to the edge of the bed that made the metal railing fall. The mattress dipped and made Allison's stomach swish as Laura slipped from the chair to a spot by Allison's shoulder. Her fingers ran through Allison's hair, picking apart tangles gently. "Derek would get better. _You're_ lucky you didn't die. You need to be more careful."

Glaring was too much work, so Allison made her disagreement known by not sinking into Laura's petting. "He hurt Derek."

Derek glanced up at Laura, and Allison had the feeling that they were doing the looking thing again. "We'll talk about it when you're better, okay?"

That felt distinctly like not winning. Allison squeezed Derek's hand, digging in her nails enough to make him look up at her. "No more getting shot," she said seriously. "For anyone."

"We can't promise that, cub." By her shoulder, she felt the rise and fall of Laura sighing. Her fingers slid across Allison's scalp, down to the back of her neck. "That was a hunter."

Allison chewed over that. There was something tugging at her thoughts, but they were too slow. An echo of a memory. "Like... a werewolf hunter?" 

"Right. And he'll probably try again." Laura's hands had moved from straightening her hair to rubbing the back of her neck soothingly, right where it connected her to skull. It felt good, but not good enough to distract her from being angry at them.

"We'll protect you, though," Derek promised. He kissed her finger tips, half-grown beard tickling the inside of her wrist. "So don't be scared."

"No!" Bracing herself, Allison tried to push upright, but there were too many tubes and her stomach hurt and her head swam until everything sparkled in a sudden wash of dark. Snarling, she let herself fall back to the pillows, eyes tightly closed against the spinning world. " _No_."

"Allison—"

"Who will protect you?" The twisting room around her slowly started to drift to a stop. She cracked her eyes carefully, staring up at their worried faces. Derek still had one hand, but she grabbed around with the other until she could hold Laura's too. "If you're protecting me, who will protect you?" 

"We'll all protect each other," Laura said decisively. "That's what pack is about. We're family. We take care of each other."

Tears prickled Allison's eyes. She squeezed them tight and turned her head to hide it in Laura's side. "You'd better." 

The bed shifted again, and Derek pressed in on her other side. "We will," he said softly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Promise."

* * *

Allison fell asleep again with her face buried in Laura's side, and woke up with nurses making unhappy faces at them. After that her pack had to go clean up and get good food—for them. Allison wasn't allowed to eat yet, for reasons she didn't understand and wasn't very happy about. The nurses were nice about it, but firm: _no food_. They did give her ice chips, though, which made her mouth feel a little less horrible. 

Just after she got her first cup of ice, the door opened again. "Allison Hale?"

She looked up from picking through her cup for the best piece of ice, then sank down into her pillow to hide behind it as best she could. A man in a beige uniform was with a badge on his chest stood just inside the door, holding a flip pad and a pen. _Police_. 

He smiled at her and edged closer in. "I'm Sheriff Stilinski. I wanted to talk to you about what happened last night. See if we can find the person who shot you." 

Scowling, she looked back at her cup of ice, picking through the pieces. Police were bad, obviously. But he called her _Hale_ , which meant he didn't know about the fire. Maybe... "You think you can find him?" she asked, biting her lip and glancing up.

"I'd like to try." The Sheriff took the seat Laura had been in when she'd woken up. 

He looked like a nice man, with lines around his face like he smiled a lot. Still, she didn't think she liked him. He was _police_. Police were bad. Police could lock her up, if they found out about the fire. But if he could help catch the hunter, if he could keep Derek and Laura safe, she could talk to him. Just for a little while. 

Setting aside her cup of ice, Allison pushed herself up a little higher in the bed. She wanted to curl up, but it hurt her stomach to try so she fisted her hands in the blanket instead. "I want to help." 

"That's something I don't hear a lot of." The Sheriff flipped open his notepad and readied his pen, looking at her with an expectant expression. "Now, this isn't a formal statement. We'll take that when you're feeling better and off the pain killers. But for now, could you just tell me what you remember from the night of the incident?"

She twisted the blanket between her hands, staring at him. "Just then? Not earlier?"

His pen snapped upright as his fingers tightened around it. "Did something happen earlier that I should know about?" he asked, voice soft and very level. It reminded her of the way Laura's voice got when Allison locked herself in the bathroom. Gentle, almost, but pushy. 

Strangely, she wanted to trust that voice. That was probably Laura's fault. "I don't know. Maybe?" She shrugged and plucked at a crease in her blanket. "We were at the new house earlier, and a man came to visit. Laura and Derek were inside the house, so I asked why he was there. He said he was a neighbor, but we don't have any." 

"What happened with the man?"

Staring at the blanket was making her head feel soft, but she didn't want to look up again. She had a feeling that if she did, it would be very easy to tell him everything, and that would just get her in trouble. "I told him to go away." 

"And he did?" 

Without looking up, Allison nodded. "I didn't like him. Just... it was a feeling. He scared me."

The pen scratched across his paper, smooth and soothing. "Could you describe him?" 

Her lips pinched as she thought for a second. "A little taller than me. Dark hair, and a beard. Blue eyes. With a big black car. It was really loud when he drove away."

The Sheriff nodded, pen flying across the paper. He was barely even looking at her, which made her relax. "Did you see the license plate? Even part of it?" When she shook her head, he grimaced at the paper. "Didn't think so. Do you remember how old he was? Approximately?" 

"Old," she answered immediately. "Really old. Old as you."

"Ouch," he laughed, but he kept writing, a smile crooking his lips. "Okay, now tell me about that night. Or you can keep calling me names."

"It's not names if it's the truth." She made a face at him, but it was hard not to smile a little. "I don't remember much. It was dark. Derek and Laura were checking on the house, and I followed them. I wasn't supposed to, but I was worried." Her smile dropped away as she remembered. 

Wiggling carefully, Allison snuggled down in her bed, until the pillow was back up around her ears. There was a button, but she didn't like it. It always angled her wrong and made her have to slide around anyway. "Derek told me to go home. It was dangerous in the dark, and he didn't want me to be hurt. But I... I saw a red light, and then there was a gunshot and Derek _fell_ and I— I thought Derek was hurt." Her eyes started to burn, and wouldn't stop no matter how much she scrunched them up. She remembered feeling the hole in Derek's chest, the way it bubbled against her palms. "I thought he was dead. He— yelled and I couldn't..." Her stomach ached as a sob tried to hiccup through her. "I thought he was dead." 

The Sheriff gave her a few minutes before gently saying, "But he wasn't hurt, right? The doctors said you were the only one who was shot." 

Allison swallowed and sniffed deep. "Right. And there was a man there with a gun. He—" Tears were starting again. She rubbed her eyes furiously until they stopped. "He was standing there and—and Derek was on the ground and I was so _angry_. I—wanted to hit him. I _tried_ to hit him, and then he shot me too."

Silence dropped. The scratching of the pen stopped. When she looked up, the Sheriff was staring at her with his eyebrows raised, wrinkles piled high on his forehead. "You attacked an armed man, in the dark?" She nodded, and his eyebrows tried to go even higher. "Why?" 

Her eyebrows twisted together. "He hurt Derek," she said again, then caught herself and corrected it to, "I thought he hurt Derek." 

"So you attacked him?"

She blinked. Nodded.

"A grown man? With a gun?"

Another nod.

"In the dark with your bare hands?"

"Yes?" He kept staring at her. It made her bristle. "I thought he hurt Derek." She didn't understand why that was so hard to understand. "I scratched his face and neck, and then he shot me."

"All... right." The Sheriff made a note with a sharp, quick motion of his pen. "And what's your relationship with Derek and Laura Hale?" 

Allison's stomach tried to flip, but it hurt too much to actually do it. "Family," she answered, a beat too late. _This_ was what she'd been afraid of. That he'd start asking questions she couldn't really answer. "We're family."

"Yes," the Sheriff said slowly, nodding, but the way he watched her put her on edge. "I realize you're family, Ms. Hale. What's your specific familial relationship?" 

"We're _family_ ," she repeated, harder and louder. "That's what matters, right? Family." He started to open his mouth, but she cut him off. "I don't think I want to talk to you anymore."

From the way his face twisted into a tight grimace, she could tell he wasn't happy about it, but he looked down at his notes instead of arguing. He'd taken more than she thought, because he had to flip back a few pages before saying, "One more question. Where was Laura when this was happening?"

"I don't know." The Sheriff started to make _that face_ again, and Allison huffed. "I _don't_. Derek was yelling at me, and then I got shot. I remember Laura yelling a lot after, though." 

"What did she say?"

 _She's human, you idiot!_ "She called him stupid." Pointedly, Allison pulled up her blanket all the way to her chin, tucking it in and staring hard at him. "I want to sleep now."

"Of course you do," the Sheriff muttered, flipping his notebook closed. "Thank you for your time, Ms. Hale."

She didn't look away as he made his way to the door and let himself out, and kept watching the door for a long minute before finally letting her eyes slide shut. Hopefully he would find the hunter who hurt Derek. If he did, it would be worth it.

* * *

"You talked to the Sheriff." Laura held her head in her hands and groaned. Her shower damp hair fell forward around her cheeks, hiding her from Allison's view. "You talked to the _Sheriff_. Allison..."

"He said he wants to find the shooter. He wants to _help_." Worried, Allison reached over to rub between Laura's shoulder blades. She hadn't thought Laura would be happy, really, but she hadn't expected this reaction either. Derek was over by the door, and rolling his eyes so hard that they actually changed color. "I didn't tell him everything—he doesn't know that Derek was shot, or about werewolves or hunters or..." 

Laura rubbed her face with her palms hard. "I should have known this was coming. Of course he'd want to talk to you. I just didn't think..."

Neither of them would look at her. It made her chest twist unhappily. "I'm sorry," she whispered, hunching in on herself. It made her stomach ache, but she ignored it to hide her face in Mr. Bear's head. They'd brought him from her bedroom at home, and her books and puzzles to keep her busy. They'd been so nice, and she'd ruined it. 

The bed shifted, and then Derek's arm was wrapping around her shoulders. "You don't have to be sorry," he said. "If you refused to talk to him, it would have been even worse. You did the right thing." 

Allison let herself be tucked against Derek's chest, ducked her head so he could pet her hair. He smelled like deodorant and clean laundry, a little like rain. No blood or dirt or anything. The pain in her stomach fizzled and faded away, until her legs slowly stretched out again and left her slumped against him. 

Off to the side, Laura heaved a giant sigh. "You did. It just... I wish we could have been there. It'd make this easier." Chair legs squeaked against the floor, and then Laura was tapping her knee until she looked up. "Everything's going to be okay. All right? You just have to tell us what you told him, so we can tell him the same thing." 

Biting her lip, Allison eyed Laura. "There was something else," she admitted, wrinkling her nose. "He asked how I know you."

Under her cheek, Derek's chest tensed, and Laura let out another groan that sounded like it came from that zombie movie Derek refused to watch with her. She fell forward, draping herself over Allison's knees. 

"What did you tell him?" Laura asked, voice muffled by the blankets, armed curled up over her head dramatically. "Please tell me you lied. Please. _Please_."

Indignant, Allison bumped her knees up to make Laura bounce. "I told him the _truth_ ," she said primly, waiting a beat so Laura could groan again before adding, "we're family. That's the truth, right?"

"Not legally," Derek said, chest rumbling against her cheek.

"Not legally _yet_ ," Laura corrected. Swatting down her hands on the bed, she pushed up until she could flip her hair back out of her face again. "I think we're going to need to call Thadd and get her some papers."

"Papers?" Allison asked warily. "What sort of papers?" 

A slow, evil smile spread over Laura's face. Reaching forward, she grabbed both of Allison's hands and gripped them tight. "How do you feel about becoming our cousin?"

* * *

At first Allison didn't mind being trapped in the hospital too much. She slept the first day, and at first there was always someone there when she woke up. Dr. Deaton or Scott and Stiles from Deaton's office came to visit. Deaton only came once, but Scott and Stiles were there almost as much as her pack was. She found out that Scott's mom Melissa worked in the hospital, and sometimes she would come in to talk or brush Allison's hair. 

On the third day Laura showed up with a California ID that said _Allison Hale_ , and they spent time talking about what to say if the Sheriff asked questions again—her age, her birthday, everything. It was exhausting, and she fell asleep on Laura's lap halfway through. When she woke up Laura started in again. It made her grumble, but every little fact warmed her heart.

She was Allison Hale. She was eighteen years old, born on March twenty first, nineteen-ninety three. Laura and Derek were her cousins. Brick by brick, a wall built up to keep her safe from the police, from hunters, from anyone who might try to take her away.

That night Allison was put in a wheelchair and all three of them went to visit Uncle Peter. Except Laura said she wasn't supposed to call him Uncle Peter, she was supposed to call him Dad, because that was what her new ID and things said. Which was strange, and a little uncomfortable. _Dad_ in her head was a man she could barely remember other than a smile and rough hands helping her with her bow. Not a man with a burned up face, staring out a window at nothing at all. But Peter seemed to like it when she talked to him, and sometimes when she called him Dad his eyes would focus, which made it a little less weird. 

Eventually she was spending more time awake, and they let her have food again. And with food came using the bathroom, which was weird but made everyone really happy and got her _congratulations on pooping_ flowers from Scott. Allison thanked him, and didn't throw them or bite anyone, though she really wanted to. Derek said he was proud of her for that, but she was pretty sure he just thought it was funny. 

After that the indignities started to build. Derek and Laura tried to be there for her, but the nurses started making them go home at night when visiting hours were over. She was allowed to go on walks to visit Peter in the Long Term Care Unit, even walks outside, but never for very long before someone started looking for her. And there were always strangers around—doctors and new nurses and other patients and it _itched_ at her, a constant pressure that made her jumpy and nervous. It was never quiet, and she couldn't sleep through it any more.

Which was why after almost a whole week at the hospital, Allison put on her robe over her hospital gown, stored her new ID and wallet in her hip pouch, tucked Mr. Bear under her arm and left. 

Outside it was still bright, the sun warmed concrete nice under her bare feet. It was after eight o'clock, and the sun would be setting soon, but it hadn't set yet. The air smelled like car exhaust and hot asphalt, but anything was better than the chemicals that stunk up the hospital. Since she didn't know the area, she took a look around and picked the direction with the most trees. 

It didn't take long before the hospital was out of sight. The area was filled with stores and people, a lot of them looking at her funny. Allison kept Mr. Bear close and hugged the inside of the sidewalk, staring straight ahead determinedly. She didn't care if they thought she was weird, but she also didn't want to deal with them. Her plan, as far as she'd created one, was to find a place she recognized and then follow it home. In a pinch, she had a backup plan of calling for help, but she really wanted to avoid that. By her reasoning, it would be harder for them to take her back to the hospital if she was already home. 

The sun started setting behind the trees, and headlights started turning on. There started to be less people and cars around, and the shops started to turn into strip malls and big office buildings. She started to ache as her medicine wore off, but Allison ignored it and just walked faster.

When she got home, she'd go curl up with Derek's pillow and make him take the pain away. That was much better than the stupid medicine that made her head feel funny anyway. 

By her estimate she was halfway to the trees, and still nowhere near anywhere she recognized, when a pair of headlights slowed instead of zooming past. The big car dropped to a slow roll, hugging close to the sidewalk. She ignored it until the window rolled down and a man said, "Can I give you a lift?"

Her head turned, lips pulled back to show her teeth. "You!" The man driving the car was the same one she'd chased away the day she'd been shot. He'd shaved his beard, his hair was paler and the light was bad for details, but she knew him.

"Me," he said simply. The car doors clicked, and the locks popped up. It slowed to a stop. "Look, you look like you're not supposed to be out here, and I want to apologize for what happened. I'll take you wherever you need to go, no questions asked." 

Allison clutched Mr. Bear to her wounded stomach and edged closer to the window. "No," she growled. "You hurt Derek."

His expression was tight, but she thought she caught a wince of guilt. "He's a werewolf. He'll heal," he said, and even to Allison, who still struggled with language sometimes, it sounded like a thing he'd been telling himself a lot. "I also shot you, you know. Shouldn't you be mad about that?" 

"I'm a human. I'll heal," she parroted back at him. "Derek's a good person. Laura's a good person. They don't deserve to be hunted by monsters."

"I'm the monster?" he asked, eyebrows rising sharply. "How do you think?"

Another car drove by, blinding her with its headlights in the mirror. She flinched away from it, raising a hand to block the light from her eyes. "Only monsters kill people." 

But he wasn't listening anymore. Something clicked, and the car flooded with bright yellow light to show him staring at her like _she_ was the one who shot people for no reason. Scratches ran down his face and neck, turning to bruises where she'd tried to choke him. "Where did you get that bear?" he asked sharply. 

Scowling, Allison took a step back from the car and tucked Mr. Bear inside her robe where the man couldn't see him anymore. "He's mine. You can't have him. And you can't have my pack, either. They're mine, too, and I'll hurt you if you try to hurt them." 

"What's the bear's name?" the man demanded, completely ignoring everything she'd said. He unbuckled his seat belt and opened the door, slipping half out of the car. "What's _your_ name?" 

Startled, Allison stumbled back again until the backs of her thighs pressed against a low wall surrounding an office parking lot. Her heart started pounding in her chest, making the pain in her stomach even worse. In the brighter light, and without the beard, he was even more familiar. The same way speaking was something from a long time ago, so far behind her that she had to fight to remember it. 

But she didn't want to remember. 

"Go away!" she yelled, edging along the wall as he started to come around the car. "Stop it!" 

"You're Allison," he said, voice bubbling with a laugh, or maybe a sob. He took a step closer, hands up where she could see them. "Not Hale, though. No, you're Allison Argent. _My_ Allison. Aren't you?"

" _No_!" The hand not holding Mr. Bear opened up her pouch, wrapping around the big rock that she kept in there. Running would hurt, but she could hurt him instead. She was _good_ at hurting things, and she wanted him to go away. To go away and _never_ ever say that name again. That name was dead now, and she didn't want it back. "Leave me alone!" 

"Allison, it's _me_." Before she could get away, he darted in, grabbing her by her upper arms. She tightened her grip on her rock, pulling it out as she tried to squirm away. "Don't you remember—" 

Red and blue lights flashed behind them, and a car door clicked open. Allison hadn't even seen the police pull up. "Miss, is this man bothering you?"

The man looked away from her, his grip slipping a little on the sleeves of her robe. "Everything's fine, officer. I was just having a talk with my daughter here—"

"I'm not your daughter!" Allison wrenched away, bringing her rock up and slamming it into his head. 

The angle was bad and she didn't have time to aim, so the rock only glanced off his temple. He still dropped her, staggering away to clutch his head. As soon as he did Allison took off down the road as fast as she could run. Her blood pumped high and loud, overriding even the ache in her stomach and the scrape of hard concrete against her feet. 

Someone chased her, yelling at her to stop. It just made her run faster. She ducked down a side street, into an area that wasn't as well lit. Concrete turned into gravely dirt that dug into the bottoms of her feet and skidded under her. High brick walls lined the way. She turned into the first alcove she found, slithering between the wall and a big, smelly dumpster. It was hard to breathe with her throat tight and the stench of the dumpster filling her nose, but she covered her mouth to force herself quieter. 

The policeman chasing her kept running past, panting heavily. A little while later she heard a curse, and then he was walking back the way he came. Distant ambulance sirens filled the air, red and blue lights flashing by between two blinks. Allison stayed where she was, curled up in a tight ball with Mr. Bear and her rock clutched to her chest. 

She stayed there for so long that she lost track of time. Night time settled in and stars started appearing overhead between the yellow glow of distant street lamps. The moon was almost new, and wouldn't even start to rise until almost morning. Her alley was silent other than the scurry of bugs in the dumpster. 

Lips trembling, Allison screwed her eyes shut, threw back her head and howled the way Laura had taught her, pulling it from the stomach so the sound carried. Pain speared through her middle but she kept it going, starting again even after it choked off with a sob. 

Far away, she heard an answer. 

Sniffling, she pulled herself out from her hiding place and looked around. There were still trees she could go find. She knew the woods. The woods were safe. And once she found the woods, Laura and Derek could find _her_. 

Hugging Mr. Bear close, Allison started walking.

* * *

It took Allison the rest of the night to make it to the trees, but once she was there she was home. She knew the woods around Beacon Hills in the way that only came from living in them for years. Familiar landmarks popped out, unchanged in the short time she'd been away—a dead tree that had been split by lightning, the uphill path that led to the top of the gorge, a hollow where she'd denned up one spring. 

Summer berries filled the bushes, and the creeks ran high with rainfall. She ate until her fingers and lips were stained purple with juice, then cleaned off in fresh, cold water for the first time in months. The creek splashed up across her wounded stomach, her breasts and hips, wonderfully chill on sun-warm skin. Sunlight streamed through the trees, reaching parts of her that hadn't seen sun in too long. For a long time, she just floated, and let the water have her until her skin wrinkled and the cold sunk in too deep for even the sun to chase away. 

When Allison finally climbed out onto the bank, she stopped and considered her clothes where they dangled from a branch with her bag and Mr. Bear. The robe she'd worn out of the hospital was too long. It got in the way, catching on branches, keeping the breeze from her skin. But the hospital gown was completely useless, made of thin material and open in the back where she most needed protection. 

She could go. Leave her clothes. The wallet and ID, the bracelet with _Allison Hale_ that was still on her wrist. Run away and never come back. Beacon Hills was home, but there was a lot of forest out there that was almost identical. And then she wouldn't have to deal with the strange man who knew her name and was familiar in ways that she didn't think she liked. He _knew_ things. Maybe everything. If she left, it would be over and done, and she'd be safe forever. No clothes, no hospitals, no police. No one who knew what she was at all. 

No Derek and Laura. No waking up tucked between them after a bad night. No making Derek blush, or making Laura laugh when he did. No reading with them late at night. No books at all. She'd never see the house finished. Never make sure Laura installed the security system like she said she would. Never run on a full moon. 

Never howl and hear an answer.

Hands shaking, Allison reached out and pulled the hospital gown off the branch. She tied it on as carefully as she could, though her fingers didn't want to do the bow right. The robe went on over it, tying closed with the belt and almost immediately snagging on a twig. Her pouch went around her waist, the top open so Mr. Bear could ride there and free her hands. 

Then, clean and as human as she would ever be, she started walking. 

It was dark by the time she reached the top of the gorge. She'd needed to stop and eat sometimes, and rest a lot. Her stomach started aching more, a dull, throbbing pain that she couldn't quite ignore, but couldn't do anything to help. It slowed her down, made her have to fight to keep moving, but eventually Allison was there at the top, looking out over Beacon Hills. 

It was a web of lights and sounds. She was so high up she could watch cars drive down streets, see the red and blue of police lights when they turned on. From so far away, the sirens weren't as bad, and she couldn't hear most of the cars at all. 

She perched on a rock at the edge of the big cliff and watched the lights move. It was perfect. But lonely. She didn't want to be lonely anymore.

Lifting her head, she howled. The sound carried over the city, echoing through the big gorge. She gave it a moment, then howled again, longer and louder, until a pain stabbed through her stomach and she ran out of breath. After the third time, she heard the reply coming from somewhere behind her and another howl that was from the city, much further away. Smiling to herself, Allison curled up in her robe and waited. 

She heard Derek before she saw him, the cracks and snaps of twigs, rustles of leaves as he brushed past, a soft conversation as he spoke with Laura on his cell phone. The call beeped to a close, and then he stepped up to sit on the rock beside her, sliding an arm over her shoulder and tucking her in beside him. They sat together, watching the city. Not very many stars were visible. It was too bright for that. But the ones that were there twinkled, proud to shine where others couldn't. 

"Do you want to talk about what happened?" Derek asked after a while, voice soft. His fingers picked through her hair, combing it away from her face. "Laura was worried."

Twisting around, Allison looked up at him thoughtfully. He had more beard than usual, and there were shadows under his eyes that she didn't remember seeing before. "Were you worried too?" 

"You know I was." 

"I'm sorry." She tucked herself in under Derek's arm, nuzzling into his chest until he settled his arm on her shoulders. It was still a little too warm to be sitting so close, but she didn't care. She'd missed him. "I just wanted to go home, and then there was the hunter... he scared me. So I ran away."

"I know. Allison..." Derek sighed heavily, chest rising and falling under her cheek. With her ear pressed against him, his voice was deeper. There was an echo to it that she liked, and his chest hair tickled where it poked out of his collar. One of his hands cupped her shoulder, thumb rubbing against her neck. The pain in her stomach twisted and then fizzled away into nothing. "The man who scared you. His name is Chris Argent."

She stiffened, eyes popping open. The bright lights of the city dimmed around the edges of her vision until she remembered to breathe again. 

Derek kept talking, kept rubbing her shoulder, but his arm tightened like he knew she wanted to run. "His wife came to see Laura today, because Chris has a concussion. Do you want to talk about it?" 

"No." The word barely came out as a choked whisper. Unbidden she crawled into his lap, clinging and hiding her face against his chest. She didn't realize she was crying until she moved and there was a damp spot under her cheek. "No, Derek. Please no? Please?"

He brushed a kiss over the top of her head, and his other arm wrapped around her waist, sliding under her shirt to keep pulling away her pain. "Okay. But you know you're ours, right? No matter what else happens, or what happened in the past, you're pack. Nothing's going to change that." 

"Even if I did terrible things?" Allison asked in a whisper. She ducked her head further, so she didn't have to look at him at all. "Even if I killed people?"

Instead of shoving her away, Derek's arms tightened. His hand in the small of her back flexed, massaging in gentle circles. "I killed someone, once. A long time ago. Should Laura throw me out?" 

Still not looking up, Allison shook her head. 

"But I've killed someone," he said, a little hard, louder. "She didn't deserve to die, but I killed her anyway."

"But... you're not..." She dared to sneak a look upward, biting the inside of her cheek. "You're not a monster. You're a good person." 

"And so are you." Derek kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose, and then her lips. His beard was just long enough to tickle when he pulled her back into a hug, tucking his chin over her neck. "Sometimes bad things happen, and we do things we wish we hadn't, but it doesn't make you a monster, Allison. Alright?"

Sniffling, Allison tucked her face into the crook of Derek's neck. "If I'm not a monster, neither are you," she murmured into his shoulder.

She felt him smile against the tender skin of her neck, a little bit of a scratch. "Deal."

* * *

Derek gave her a piggy back ride down to the closest road, where Laura was waiting with the Camaro and so many hugs Allison forgot to breathe. Laura even let Derek drive so she could sit with Allison in the back seat, which was barely big enough for one person, never mind two. She had to sit on Laura's lap and be sniffed and petted and have her stomach looked at. It was cramped and horrible, and Allison loved it. 

She was less happy about things when they passed the hospital sign and Derek slowed down to turn into the parking lot.

"No," Allison whined, long and loud and a little muffled because of Laura's breasts in her face. "I want to go home." 

"Home is for cubs who are healthy," Laura said against the top of her head, but she didn't sound like she was very happy with it either. " _You_ had a hole in your stomach, and then were missing all day. You're going back to the hospital."

Allison whined again as the car rolled to a stop and Derek got out of the driver's side. "No. I'm not going!" She twisted around to try and grab ahold of the passenger seat, but Laura's grip around her locked down. Before she knew what was happening, Laura had her arms pinned, and Derek had grabbed her ankles. 

They lifted her out of the Camaro with practiced precision, carrying her between them by her wrists and ankles while her hospital robe dragged across the asphalt. She snarled, twisting and kicking to try and win free. It didn't work. Struggling just made her rock back and forth, and they were too strong for her to break their grip. Halfway across the parking lot, she was already exhausted and was down to dangling unhappily as they carted her through the sliding glass doors and up to the front desk. 

"Hi," Laura chirruped, adjusting her grip on Allison's arms when her skin started to tug. "We found her. Can someone please page Dr. Dunbar?" 

"Uhhh..." Someone Allison could just barely see leaned over the edge of the tall, polished front desk. Other people were staring. She curled her lips, but didn't bother snarling. She'd lost, and she was too tired to fight it. Revenge would have to come later. Possibly with more rocks. "Is everything okay miss...?"

"Just page Dr. Dunbar," Laura repeated, sharper. "He'll understand."

The person behind the counter started making a call. No one seemed interested in putting her down, so Allison let her head fall back, looking around the lobby lazily until her eyes fell on Stiles. He'd been reading some sort of magazine with bears on the front, but now he was watching her over the top of it. He glanced at her, then at Derek and Laura and made a worried face back at her. Allison grimaced and tried to shrug, but hanging by her arms made it difficult. 

It took a few minutes, but eventually the elevator dinge, and she heard someone say, "For God's sakes, put her down! She's a surgery patient, not a piñata!"

"This close to the door? Not unless you want her to run again," Derek said, swinging her feet so her robe swished across the floor. 

"Yup," Allison said proudly, tilting her head back so she could look up at the doctor. He was a nice enough man, with black skin and good smile, but he was a doctor. She barely put up with Dr. Deaton, and that was because he and Scott let her play with the baby animals sometimes. Dr. Dunbar, however, did not have kittens, or lollipops. That made him an enemy. "I want to go home." Just to make the point, she tried to kick Derek again. He swung her foot easily out of the way, not even letting her get close to hitting him.

"We found her on a hiking trail we used to use," Laura explained, which was a total lie. They'd never gone up to the gorge. The paths were bad for running. "Do we need to check her in again, or...?" 

Dr. Dunbar rubbed his face, and for a second Allison almost felt guilty. But then she remembered all the needles he'd stuck her with, and the stupid questions, and how he wouldn't let her have salad for _so long_ , and she didn't feel bad anymore. "I'll run away again."

"I'll pay the Sheriff's deputies extra money to make sure you don't," Laura threatened, leaning over so Allison could see the red edges of her eyes and the extra points on her teeth. That meant she was serious. "The more you run away, the longer you have to stay here. If I have to, I'll have them put you in with Uncle Peter, and then you'll have to deal with Nurse Jennifer instead of Nurse Melissa." 

She sagged, crestfallen. "That's not fair. I don't like Nurse Jennifer. She's scary." 

"It's very fair, and that's what you get," Laura answered sternly. With a heave, she and Derek dropped her feet to the ground and levered her upright. "Come on, back to bed. Maybe if you're nice, Nurse Melissa won't put you on a catheter." 

Allison groaned, dragging her feet as they led her toward the elevator. When she glanced over her shoulder, Stiles was waving. She made a sad face and waved back until he was out of sight.

At least _someone_ was on her side. She'd figure out later whether or not that was a good thing.

* * *

Running away earned her an extra three days in the hospital. It turned out she'd torn some things inside that weren't done healing yet, and no one approved of the berries because she didn't know what type they were. _No one_. Even Melissa, who'd brought her ice cream one time, made a face and _tsk_ ed.

It wasn't as bad as it had been, though. Derek and Laura still visited a lot, and Scott and Stiles were there all the time. Scott said he was visiting his mom, and Stiles said his dad asked him to do some stuff, but they spent hours and hours in her room and none of the nurses kicked them out even after visiting hours were over. They went on walks with her, because she wasn't allowed to walk by herself anymore, and Stiles brought his laptop so they could watch movies. 

On the second day, a deputy came by to ask if she wanted to talk about hitting Chris Argent with a rock, which she _definitely_ didn't, and then the Sheriff visited to make sure she was okay and bring her more flowers. Not pooping flowers, just flowers. No one asked if her real name was Hale or Argent, and no one asked why she'd hit the man with a rock, which was really the most important part of things.

But as nice as watching movies and getting flowers was, she wanted to go home. When Derek and Laura showed up one morning with a sack full of clothes and papers for Laura to pretend to sign for her, Allison almost tripped and hurt herself trying to dress as fast as she could. Derek helped her when she got stuck in her shirt, and Laura laughed so hard that it left a smear of ink on the papers. 

Before they could go, a nurse who wasn't Melissa gave them a lecture on medicine and food and pain and coming back if things happened. Allison didn't listen. If she could help it, she was _never_ going to be back in a hospital again. The next time Derek was hurt, she'd attack the man from behind instead. Smarter. Better that way. 

And then they were bundling her up in the back of Derek's car, with a blanket and pillows and even a cup of ice, though she was allowed to eat food again. Laura sat in the back with her, petting her hair and letting her lean into her while Derek drove. Getting dressed had been _exhausting_ , so when Allison started to drift off to sleep she didn't even try to fight it. 

She woke up to a still car and Laura shaking her shoulder. "Come on, cub. We're here," Laura said, something bright making her voice bounce. "Out of the car. You can nap inside." 

Allison grumbled and opened her eyes just enough to find her blankets and Mr. Bear before unbuckling her seat belt and fumbling through the sliding door. Derek caught her before she could trip over the edge of her blanket, scooping her off her feet. She whined and wiggled in protest, hiding her face in his neck where the sun couldn't reach it. He carried her all the way in and sat her on the overstuffed couch in the living room. Then he tucked the blanket back around her, put Mr. Bear under her arm and finished by sitting a box on her face. 

Her eyes popped open, crossing to stare at the box on her nose. It was light enough that it didn't hurt, and wobbled alarmingly when she wrinkled her nose at it. "What?" 

"It arrived for you at the hospital," Laura said, dropping heavily onto the cushions by Allison's feet. It jostled her just enough that Allison had to snatch the box before it fell. "I thought you might want to open it at home. Derek swears it wasn't him." 

"Because it wasn't." Derek took the floor by her feet, where Allison only needed to reach a little to touch him. "Unlike some people, I don't play games giving secret gifts and playing surprised."

Laura stuck her tongue out. "That's because you have no poetry in your soul."

Ignoring them, Allison turned the box over curiously. There wasn't anything special about it. It was small, a little smaller than her fist, with just _Allison Hale_ and her room number scrawled on top in blue marker. Plain, thin tape that broke under her nails without any effort at all.

Inside was a tiny jewelry box, fuzzy and soft under her fingers. She glared at her pack suspiciously, but they both looked more curious than anything else. So it probably wasn't them. _Probably_. Carefully, in case there was something dangerous inside, she popped the lid.

It was a wolf's head, with blue stones set for the eyes and its teeth bared at the viewer. Frowning, Allison lifted the charm out by its chain to inspect. There was a thin seam ran across the side that clicked when she pushed her thumbnail into it, popping open into a locket. But instead of a picture inside, there was a little scrap of paper with two words. 

_Love, Dad._

"Does it say who it's from?" Derek asked, leaning his head back to try and peek inside the locket. 

Allison snapped it closed and shoved it back in its jewelry box before he could see. "No," she lied, folding and then refolding the flaps on the cardboard box. She'd have to watch close. They'd want to sniff it or something, and that would be... 

That would be _bad_. 

But Laura was starting to grin, wide and sweet and absolutely _evil_. "Oh, it's like that, huh?" she demanded. "Does Derek have some _competition_?"

"No!" Allison snapped, while at the same time Derek growled a loud, " _What_?"

"He does, doesn't he?" Wiggling, Laura scooted over on the couch until she was under Allison's knees and reaching for the box. When Allison stuffed it behind the cushions at her back, Laura pouted. "Oh, come on, share with your alpha. Is it Scott? I bet it's Scott."

" _Laura, no_." Heat flushed Allison's cheeks. She leaned over to wrap her arms around Derek's shoulders and glared cold death at Laura. "I want Derek. _Just_ Derek. Not two of them. Just this one."

Derek started choking a protest and turning bright red at the tips of his ears. For some reason, that just made Laura laugh harder, falling forward onto Allison's legs. They started shooting accusations and protests at each other. Half the words flew over Allison's head, but she knew the tone. Blushing bright red, she buried her face in Derek's hair. 

The box jammed into her back; she ignored it. She had her family. No one was going to take it away from her. _No_ one.


End file.
